


Warning Signs

by Jormus



Series: Something's Wrong With Arcadia [1]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Bular hunting people, Don't camp out in Arcadia, Gen, Hobo Signs, Storytelling, That was definitely NOT a bear, homeless people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 21:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jormus/pseuds/Jormus
Summary: Arcadia seems a pleasant place on the surface, but the homeless people in the surrounding towns know better.





	Warning Signs

 “I wouldn’t go there.”

The two young men look up in surprise. They were just going over a map of California, figuring out the next stop on their route.

“I wouldn’t go there,” The man repeats.

He’s old. It’s hard to tell how old exactly, people tend to age faster on the streets. This man looks like he’s nearing the end of his time. His frame is gaunt and his leathery skin is loose on his face. His shaggy white hair is pulled back into a knot.

“Why?” One of the young men asks, curious.

He hasn’t been on the streets long, but it’s been long enough that he’s learned to heed warnings.

The old man limps over and settles on the ground beside them.

“The name’s Henry,” He says, offering a hand. “You two aren’t from around here.”

“Simeon,” Says the first boy, taking his hand.

“I’m Pascal,” The second says when it’s his turn. “We just got here from Portland. We figured it’d be nice to get some sun.”

Henry nods.

“I figured. Anyone from around here can tell you that Arcadia isn’t safe.”

Simeon and Pascal lean forward, interested.

“Why’s that? Do they not like street people? Bad Police? Gangs?”

Henry shakes his head.

“No.  Arcadia has none of those problems as far as I’m aware.”

“Then why not?” Simeon asks.

“Because people like us who go to Arcadia… People who stay the night are never seen again.”

“What happens to them?” Pascal asks intrigued yet skeptical.

“No one knows,” Henry says with a shrug. “But the oldest buildings in the town and the canal… _especially_ the canal are all engraved with warning signs.”

“Warning signs?”

“The old ones that hobos used to use.”

Henry pulls out a piece of chalk and draws a few on the ground to show them. He draws a circle with two arrows pointing out of it, two diagonal lines forming a T, a rectangle with a dot in the center, and three parallel diagonal lines.

“The first two mean ‘Get out fast’, the next one means ‘Danger’ and the last one means ‘Unsafe Area’. There’s signs like that all over the town. I saw a few that were messy and incomplete as if someone was trying to leave them while on the run.”

“Wait. Hold up. You _saw_ them? You mean you went there?”

Henry returns his chalk to his backpack and leans back with a sigh. He pulls out a cigarette and holds it out with one eyebrow raised. Pascal scrambles to get out his lighter.

“I was about your age at the time,” Henry says once he’s taken a long draw.

He blows out a stream of smoke and watches it dissipate.

“An old running buddy of mine and I had just heard what I’m telling you. I thought it was just a bunch of superstitious nonsense. So when Frank dared me to go spend the night there I didn’t hesitate.

 “The signs should have been enough to make me think twice, but I laughed them off. I thought I was smart. I spent the day panhandling, got a nice lunch from a friendly old lady, and then went out in the woods. I figured if I put my hammock high up in the trees no one would bother me.”

Henry’s gaze is far off. The cigarette hangs limp in his fingers. He takes a shaky inhale and continues.

“I slept through the first hours of the night with no problem. The temperature was just right, the forest was peaceful, I was sure this was going to be the easiest bet of my life. But at midnight something woke me up.

“The first thing I noticed was that it was _silent._ There’s always a little noise in forests, especially at night, but I couldn’t hear anything, not even insects.

“I looked over the edge of my hammock and that’s when I saw it.”

Pascal and Simeon lean forward.

“There was something down there on the ground. It was big and pitch black. If I had been standing next to it I’m sure it would have been twice my size. It was looking right at me.

“I froze up. Couldn’t say anything, couldn’t move, just sat there staring into its eyes.

“Then it started to climb the tree.”

Henry’s voice is just a rough whisper now. His gaze is intense. He leans toward his audience.

“Maybe I should have screamed or thrown something, but I couldn’t. It kept getting closer. I was sure I was dead. Just before it could reach me I heard something rustling in the bushes and saw a flash of blue light.

“I don’t know what it was, but the creature left.”

Henry leans back again and takes a long draw on his cigarette.

“I couldn’t move all night, couldn’t sleep. As soon as the sun appeared I rolled up my hammock and booked it out of there. Never been back since.”

Pascal and Simeon both lean back as well. The tension from the story ebbs from the air and Simeon chuckles breathlessly.

“That’s quite the tale,” He says. “Must have been a bear! Think it was a man eater?”

Henry shrugs wordlessly.

Pascal has also lost the tension in his shoulders.

“Could be,” He muses. “It must not have ever gotten any of the locals or there would have been a big hunt for it.”

Simeon rolls up their map and gives Henry a smile.

“Thanks for the tip. We best be going if we want to find a good place to spend the night.”

Henry gives him a nod.

“Good luck to you two.”

Henry watches them disappear down the road and sighs. He really does hope they heed his advice. He didn’t tell them the full story. He never tells the full story. Who would believe him?

_“Won’t you come down little bird?” The creature looked up at him, glowing eyes full of calculating, inhuman intelligence. Henry was shaking like a leaf. He couldn’t move; couldn’t breathe._

_The creature chuckled, low and malicious, and stalked over to one of the trees his hammock was tied to. It dug its claws into the tree, the wood cracking and splintering under the force. The hammock shivered under him. He still couldn’t move. From this angle he could see two massive swords, each as big as a man, strapped to its back._

_“I do enjoy some work for my dinner. Your fear will make you taste so much better."_

Henry shakes his head to clear it. He stares at the cigarette with a grimace and puts it out against the pavement.

He knows with absolute certainty whatever he met in the woods that night was definitely _not_ a bear.


End file.
